When I'm happy, no one would ever assume I was sick. But that's the thing, isn't it? No one would assume anyone would want to wake up in the morning and wish they would die if they're happy.
But when I'm sad, I can't hide it for long.
Today, in my deviance and control discussion, we were talking about depression. I was obviously uncomfortable. And in a room full of sociologists, that's dangerous.
Normally, I'd be fine to give information and have a discussion, and act professional.
But now my TA knows. He watched me all class. He saw how uncomfortable I was.
He came to me after class and asked me if I was okay. I almost cried. I told him the discussion was hard, but honest.
He asked me if I was getting help. I told him about my parents and how they can't admit that their daughter might be sick. That depression is an "adult disease" and being 20 isn't adult enough.
He told me to go to the counselors on campus. He wants me to get help, and drugs. Now he says he is worried about me. Now he looks at me like I'm a sick puppy. This is why I don't tell people.
He won't let me be. He's going to ask me next week if I have gone to the counselors.
I know his intentions are good.
But I was doing fine on my own. I don't want to be anyone's pet project.
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